Revenge of the Flame
by lonewolf7878
Summary: This is a one shot accompanying piece to my main fic Love and the Flame. It is set five years after the prologue of that story. This is done to help explain things for later on in LatF, were the ending of this will be explained as well. Please review.


A/N: Just want to make this clear; this is a one shot-accompanying piece to my main fic Love and the Flame. It is set five years after the prologue of that story, which I will update soon, I've just been writing five chapters ahead before I post. This is just a little history building piece on how the order recovered to the point you will see in the next few chapters of LatF when they are posted.

Quick note; Please review!! I haven't had many reviews at all so far and I would really like to know what you think as well as any criticism you may have. You can say what you want as long as you say something. I will try to reply to all of the reviews I receive.

Hope you enjoy.

*****

"Advance! By fire and movement!"

"Warpig six, 3rd story building at 2 o'clock. Hostile troops on second floor, fire for effect."

"Enemy infantry consolidating in market square. Third platoon, advance and engage."

The once quiet village was quickly becoming a ruin. With a population of a little over six hundred, Perlia had never exactly been a busy place, but now it was far too busy for comfort.

With a cliff edge a little over a hundred meters away from the southern edge of the village, and steep ditches and uneven ground to the west, normally the only way for people to enter or exit was the North road. That or take the dirt trail to the east that joined Perlia and the nearest village, over a days walk away.

Since the village's new inhabitants had moved in, the few options had been reduced to just the north road, with mines and magical wards set up to the east and west, and they had fortified the cliff with weapon emplacements and barbed wire. The north road now had six gun emplacements covering it, creating a lethal kill zone in the crossfire. Extensive Wards covered the entire perimeter off the village, as well as a half-mile high invisible dome, designed to prevent anything from entering from the sky.

This had caused the air inside to become hot and stuffy, a fact the five hundred strong force of mercenaries, criminals, traitors and dark wizards often complained about. Understandably, after over a month and living in such conditions, they were more than a little miffed when the aforementioned dome collapsed in under a minute when the attack began.

*****

It was Five years since 'the fall'. Five years since the infant child Harry Potter had stopped the Dark Lord Voldemort. Five years of searching and hunting for the traitors that had come so very close to collapsing the Order. But if the thousands of years of its existence had taught the members of the Order of the Flame anything, it was that hope could endure. They could endure.

Months had passed since the night Voldemort assaulted the bastion of fire. Even after that tragic night, more fell to the treachery of Tull and his followers. Safe houses, fortresses, camps, headquarters, bases, even homes of the families of many in the order had been attacked. Locations and defences; the secrets had been spilled. Through sheer desperation and strength of arms, a fair number of attacks had been repelled or broken by reinforcements, scrounged from across the world. Even the muggle military had been called in from countries all over the globe to come to their aid.

Abandoning many facilities and holds, fighting to keep as many as possible alive, the Order had retreated to the shadows, regrouping and holding on to hope. Fighting purely defensively, they had salvaged between a third to half their strength and forces.. The few counter attacks bought them just enough time to last, as they prepared to hit hard with everything they had in a final stand.

But then the-boy-who-lived had entered the game, and the Death Eaters were broken by the 'death' of Voldemort.

And once the dust had settled, the wounds licked, and it had became clear that the Order could survive, they turned their entire attention to finding those who had caused so much damage. For years they hunted, slaying the traitors one at a time or by the dozen, it made no difference; no mercy was offered. None was expected.

And all the time they searched for one in particular; Tull. The traitor. The one who had nearly given the Order to Voldemort. The one who had caused thousands of deaths.

The one they would find, no matter the cost.

*****

Tull had fled to Perlia with a rag-tag band of the scum of the earth. He knew what hunted him. He knew they had a damn good chance of finding him. And so he made his stand, prepared and dug in as best he could. No matter what happened, he would give one hell of a fight. He would survive.

*****

The moment the location was confirmed a task force was assembled. Lord Commander Corbec would lead it himself, the head of the crème of the remaining Order forces. Twenty of the surviving forty-six Dragon Riders departed, four companies of infantry with enough heavy weapons and support to make another entire company of men. Thirty-two armoured elements and half of the surviving Spartan class air ships, fully crewed and armed, with three wings of air support flying escort.

A total of over 1200 men and woman, each seeking revenge.

Official orders were to secure the village, rescue any surviving civilians, engage any and all hostile forces and kill or capture all targets and those on the pirioty list.

Unofficial orders; the village was unlikely to remain standing for long. Tull's forces would have long killed the civilians, any remaining were likely broken, tortured slaves. And everyone knew that if they could help it, not one of their enemy would leave the field that day. Unless they were in a body bag.

*****

The first indication to those in Perlia of what was about to fall on them was a flash in the sky. The fact that it was mid day without a cloud in sight, made it quite noticeable to the occupying forces. Those who had seen combat before were on guard. Those who had been with Tull since the fall, who had also turned traitor, instantly became ready for combat, knowing in their hearts that the fire had found them.

Exactly seven seconds after the flash, all but one of the emplacements covering the cliff erupted in fire, explosions ripping the rock and sandbags apart, as well as those manning them. The rubble had barley stopped falling when the smoke was swirled apart and four ships came swooping in hard and fast, forward weapons already trained on targets and opening fire. Four flying ships. At a glance, they looked like 17th century muggle warships without the masts and sails. Except that they were made from a glimmering, almost crystal like metal. Braking hard, they swung to the side, touching down on the ground before any hostile forces could target them. Starboard sides now facing toward the village, the formidable armaments mounted on the four decks opened fire in a howling blaze of death and destruction.

Dozens of Tull's force were sent stumbling and flying backwards, torn apart by M102 howitzers and mini guns, grenade launchers and enhanced spell fire. Hatch's popped along the sides of the ships, and a large ramp dropped from the rear of each.

Three full companies disembarked quickly, taking cover in the closest buildings, many now little more than rubble and burning foundations. Light tanks and APC's thundered down the ramps and rolled toward the centre of the village.

The shocked defenders now poured out, attempting to engage the landing troops before they could establish a beachhead. Unfortunately for them, hot on the heels of the ships was the first flight of the Order's elite. Over a dozen dragons came diving just metres over the roof tops, sending men and woman scattering for cover away from the raging fire exploding from the throats of the mighty beasts.

Before they could regroup, the fifteen tanks and armoured vehicles were upon them. Withering fire smashed into any concentration of forces, keeping them broken and divided.

The landed infantry rushed forward along the streets, sweeping aside any remaining dark forces. They covered a full two thirds of the way to the centre of the village before meeting any substantial resistance; a wide road separated the buildings, and along the other side the buildings had been fortified, the walls reinforced by magical barriers. Nearly a hundred of Tull's troops manned this line of defence, pouring spell fire and curses into the advancing order troops.

Return fire, both magic and muggle, raked the entrenched defenders in a lethal trade off. Many fell on both sides but, for the moment, the attack was stalled. From the south, at least.

*****

John Rane had been a mercenary for over twenty years. A mercenary under Tull's employment for seven of those long years. As a wizard with a notably pure background he had quickly risen in the ranks, especially with the knowledge of the dark arts he had gained in the last five years, under Tull's personal instruction. Which was why he had been chosen to lead the defence of the north road.

Many of his men, including himself, it had to be said, were looking back to the south as the sound of battle reached even higher volumes. Still, his job was to hold the north. With that in mind he glanced once more to the road. And instantly felt fear bloom inside of him.

Wizards and witches could normally rip apart muggle vehicles with ease, often with a single curse. Vehicles with mounted weapons were slightly harder. Armoured vehicles, even more so. But the real problem with what was speeding towards John Rane and those under his command, was that they were goblin made and protected by multiple wards and magical barriers literally woven into the symbols covering the vast armoured plates.

There was also seventeen of them. Eight APC's carrying ten troopers each, four Horntail-class ground carriers developed by the Order, each carrying a full platoon of men. Oh, and the five magically modified M1A2 Abram tanks.

"Oh shit"

Famous last words.

*****

The electronic warfare officer of the AC-130 gunship which was circling the air space of Perlia grinned as his screen showed the north road barricade and its surrounding buildings erupt in fire as the Abram's opened up with their main weapons.

Behind him, the fire control officer let rip with two 20 mm Gatling guns, spraying the Defenders grouping behind the destroyed barricade.

The north road was open.

*****

Back at the south advance, the order troopers were still deadlocked. Captain Durant, the commanding officer of fourth platoon, 2nd fire regiment, cursed as he glared at the opposite side of the road.

"Mkvennen! Get your arse in gear and get over here!"

The Sergeant scrambled over to join his captain behind the low wall he was crouching behind.

"Sir?"

Durant paused to fire off an exploding hex before turning his attention to his 1st sergeant.

"We need to get moving again, take 3rd platoon round to the right and –

"This is Goldthorn, come in Bull Lead."

Durant tapped into his earpiece and activated his link. "This is Bull, go Goldthorn."

"What's the situation, Captain?"

"Tango's have blocked our access point here sir, holding hard. About to try and break the deadlock now, sir."

"Negative Bull Lead. I will handle. Prepare to advance on my signal."

Durant grinned at Sergeant Mkvennen. If nothing else Goldthorn was to the point.

"Copy that. What's the signal Goldthorn?"

"You'll know it when you see it."

*****

On Tull's side of the road, the defenders were breathing a sigh of relief. With the advance stopped they could now try to figure out a way to get out of the whole mess. At least until a massive shadow covered the centre warehouse. More than twenty fighters were on the roof, providing mass fire on individual targets.

Until Goldthorn arrived.

*****

Durant and his men watched in satisfaction and awe as a dragon swept low over the defenders. A pillar of fire erupted from her snout, engulfing a group taking cover behind the slightly raised area beside the road. Her tail knocked three men off the large warehouse before the dragon twirled in mid-air, grabbing two others in her claws and literally biting another in half as she sped away.

Though not before the man riding upon her back leapt off.

Crashing hard onto the roof, he immediately went into a roll, passing a startled dark wizard, who promptly screamed as his leg and lower stomach were sliced to the bone by the sword in the man's left hand. Rolling to his feet, he blasted another off the roof with a sweep of the wand carried in his right hand.

Gathering themselves, the remaining dozen defenders threw themselves at him, Killing Curses raining down thick and fast. Swaying to the right, the man leapt hard away from their field of fire. The sword shot out, impaling one through the chest. Throwing the body between him and the majority of the others, he blocked incoming spells from the two now behind him. Spinning low he shot off a slicing hex at one, reversing his spin to dodge yet another killing curse.

Then he really began to move.

Power seemed to literally stream from his limbs as he moved like liquid, weaving in and out of the now terrified defenders. One, two, three, four, fell to his wand, a fifth was simply roundhouse kicked in the temple, shattering the side of his skull and spanning his neck. Two were cut down by the man's blade before the four remaining broke forces and fled down into the building itself.

With the defender's fire reduced by nearly a quarter, the order troops could increase their own, suppressing the vastly outnumbered defenders, while Durant and fifty of his men moved forward. As soon as they were close enough, they charged.

"Bayonets! Bayonets! Take 'em!"

With a roar of approval the fifty crashed into the floundering lines of defenders, hacking them down with blades and fists, and then spells and gunfire when they broke.

The south was open.

And Goldthorn had entered the fight personally.

Durant rang alongside his warriors as the tanks rolled beside them once more. He grinned at Mkvennen again as he passed the sergeant.

"Dragon Master Corbec always did lead from the front."

"Aye, he always did like a dramatic entrance as well."

They advanced once more, both from the north and south, driving the remainder of the defenders to the centre, to the market place where they would be trapped.

To Tull.


End file.
